


to watch the moon eat the sun

by clachnaben



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Threesome - F/M/M, geralt is a bottom you cowards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clachnaben/pseuds/clachnaben
Summary: “What about we go upstairs and do this elsewhere boys?” she said, her voice deep and sensual. Geralt stood, because even phrased as a question he knew an instruction when he heard it, until the sentence actually filtered into his brain.“Wait, both of us?” he said. Jaskier’s eyes flicked between them, very clearly not moving until someone gave him a sign. Yennefer shrugged.“Why not?” she said, so calm she made the hair on the back of Geralt’s neck rise up. She was definitely about to go mad and start ordering them around and Geralt was desperate for her to start. Maybe she was going to dramatically kill someone, which would really be an excellent way to cap off Geralt’s surprisingly good week.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 13
Kudos: 192





	to watch the moon eat the sun

**Author's Note:**

> title is from To The Woman Crying Uncontrollably In The Next Stall by Kim Addonizio
> 
> thanks to my wonderful beta greedy_dancer
> 
> when does this take place? if the show can’t be bothered to timeline things, neither can I.
> 
> stat tuned for the potential mpreg sequel

Geralt had gotten too used to running into Yennefer on the road to be suspicious when they were both guests at the Coach and Horses on the border of Temeria. The money from his last contract hadn’t run out yet, and Jaskier was making enough from singing to pay for the room, and had only kicked Geralt out of their room to sleep with whores twice, which was a ratio Geralt could live with. Roach was better company anyway. 

Geralt was leaving the stables one morning after Jaskier had decided whores were more important than the creative inspiration of sleeping next to a witcher, when a carriage that was much fancier than it had any right to be rolled in, pulled by horses that smelled wrong. It made him stop, and smell more deeply, because someone had magciked the horses, and who on earth would do something so silly, when there were perfectly good horses underneath the magic, they just weren’t all pitch black as night. 

The door to the carriage swung open from the inside, and the strong, intoxicating scent of Yennefer wafted across him, enough that he took a step back before she’d even stepped out of the carriage. 

“Yen,” he said, when he saw her. She looked up at him, her purple eyes wide with surprise. 

“Geralt,” she said. “What are you doing here? And why do you smell like horse?”

He snorted. Yennefer always seemed to journey through life attempting to be as rude to everyone around her as possible. 

“Jaskier is in our room. With whores,” he said. 

Yennefer raised one eyebrow. 

“So you decided to sleep with your horse?” she said waspishly. “I didn’t realise jealousy would drive you to such extremes.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. He hadn’t felt jealousy in nearly 100 years, he wasn’t about to start over Jaskier of all people. 

“What are you doing here?” he said, but Yennefer was already striding past him, into the inn. Why was she always making him follow her around? She was so frustrating, and annoying, and still the most amazing, arousing person he’d ever met. He half wanted to try and kill her, just to see what would happen, but she’d probably curse him to be something very inconvenient, and he certainly couldn’t rely on Jaskier to turn him back. 

When he finally got through the crowd of people in the public room, Yennefer was already being led up stairs by the landlord, who looked like someone had smacked him up the head with a blunt object. Or, most likely, a mind control spell that had convinced him he didn’t need to be paid. One or the other. Geralt tried to follow, but Yennefer slammed her door shut, just as Jaskier came out of his room, looking disheveled and nervously trying to put his clothes back on.

“Was that Yennefer? The deadly sorceress? Why is Yennefer here? At this inn?” he said, stuttering a little. 

Geralt shoved him back into the room.

“She heard you were singing here, and couldn’t miss a single performance,” he said sarcastically. Jaskier perked up. 

“Wait, really?” he asked. Geralt smacked him on the side of his head, and Jaskier yelped. 

“No,” he said. They’d been at the inn for long enough that neither of the whores were surprised when he came into the room, and both of them continued to find their clothes and dress. Jaskier handed them a small purse on their way out of the room. 

“So are we leaving?” Jaskier said, struggling back into his doublet. “Do we have another adventure to pursue? Somewhere very very far away from the sexy sorceress? The one who brings danger and destruction wherever they go?”

“No,” Geralt cut through Jaskier’s ranting. He didn’t point out that he also brought death and destruction wherever he went. Jaskier would probably try and put it in a song. Yennefer had a reason for being there, and Geralt wanted to find out what it was. Running away was a sure way to guarantee running into her again. Fate had a way of working out like that. 

“Well if we’re not leaving, I definitely have enough money to pay Fiona and Marta for another night,” Jaskier said, his head already turning towards the door. Geralt grabbed him before he ran off. 

“You want Yennefer to find you with whores,” he said, and watched that thought filter into Jaskier’s brain. 

“Well, probably wise to practice some restraint, just for one night,” he said, as if the idea had been his all along. 

“Hmmm,” Geralt said, and settled in to figure out what Yen was up to.

Several hours, and many questions to the landlord and attempts to get Yen to let him in her room later, and he was none the wiser. It bothered him, because Yen was very rarely up to anything _good_, but he decided to let it go until it was a direct and immediate threat, and went to go drink in the public room. His metabolism made it hard for him to get drunk unless he was honestly trying, but drinking and eating and cheerfully charging it to Jaskier’s bill put him in a good mood, and he had definitely softened a bit by the time Jaskier came down to sing. 

He was entirely too full of himself, so Geralt would never say it to his face, but he was actually a decent bard, and he had a couple people up and dancing along with the jig after only a couple songs. Geralt ordered a bottle of terrible wine and let Marta, who he’d had a very enjoyable night with, have half when he couldn’t drink it fast enough. Maybe _he’d_ kick Jaskier out of the room tonight.

The room got hot with all the dancing and Jaskier had to unbutton his doublet with the heat, exposing his undershirt and the shape of his chest. On second thought, maybe Geralt would just have to distract Jaskier before he thought to pay anyone. He wanted to sleep in a bed tonight, and he wanted Jaskier to be there. 

Yennefer threw herself into the seat Marta had just vacated. 

“Are you honestly enjoying all this drivel about knights falling in love with shepard girls? You’ve met enough knights to know they’d as soon as steal all her sheep than pledge their undying love,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He wasn’t going to argue with her about it. Yennefer watched Jaskier prance around the audience a bit more. 

“You know, I really don’t know what you see in him,” Yennefer said. “I mean, it must be something, otherwise you wouldn’t have let him follow you around like a drooling puppy for all this time, but I cannot figure it out.”

“It’s not like you to care,” he said, deadpan. When she turned to look at him, he raised her eyebrows. “Careful, someone might start accusing you of being interested in other people’s lives.”

“I’m always interested in your life,” she said directly, disarming him for a second. 

At the other end of my room, Jaskier’s song finished and he took a bow to some cheering and clapping. 

“My apologies my noble friends, but I must pause and wet my throat for but a moment,” he said, giving another over the top bow, and slid through the crowd to sit at Geralt’s table and help himself to some of the wine. “Erugh, Geralt this stuff tastes horrible, why are you drinking it?”

“Because it’s what the inn had,” he said, taking the cup back from Jaskier. “Stop drinking it if you don’t like it.”

Jaskier tried to reach for the bottle, but Geralt held it out of reach. 

“Fine then,” Jaskier said, collecting himself after some undignified flapping after the bottle. “I’ll go get my own drink.”

He stood, and bowed to Yennefer, while she just looked at him like he was dirt on her shoe. 

“May I fetch the lady a drink?” he said, looking up at her from the bow. 

“You can get me one of those horrible bottles,” Yen said, and Jaskier nodded. 

“Of course, of course, right away,” he said, and went for the bar. Geralt watched him go, enjoying the view of his arse. When he turned, Yennefer was watching the same view, with a hungry expression on her face. She looked at him. 

“Well, I guess I can see the appeal a little bit,” she said, with a shrug. Geralt snorted. 

“You didn’t ride in a magic carriage all the way to Temeria to look at Jaskier’s arse,” he said, but Yennefer just tossed her hair over shoulder and looked at him through her eyelashes with a smirk on her face. He wasn’t proud of it, but he was definitely hard just from her smirking at him. It was automatic. 

Jaskier came back to the table holding another bottle of disgusting wine and a large cup of ale. He put a wine and cup in front of Yennefer, but she just picked up the bottle and drank straight from it, her lips wrapped around the mouth so obscenely that Geralt felt it as a sharp reaction in his gut. Jaskier, who wasn’t as used to Yennefer as he was, just stared. 

“Uh,” he said. Yennefer put the bottle down and licked her lips. 

“What about we go upstairs and do this elsewhere boys?” she said, her voice deep and sensual. Geralt stood, because even phrased as a question he knew an instruction when he heard it, until the sentence actually filtered into his brain. 

“Wait, both of us?” he said. Jaskier’s eyes flicked between them, very clearly not moving until someone gave him a sign. Yennefer shrugged. 

“Why not?” she said, so calm she made the hair on the back of Geralt’s neck rise up. She was definitely about to go mad and start ordering them around and Geralt was _desperate_ for her to start. Maybe she was going to dramatically kill someone, which would really be an excellent way to cap off Geralt’s surprisingly good week. 

“Uh,” Jaskier said, and Geralt was _not_ letting him ruin the best suggestion Yennefer had ever made. 

“C’mon Jaskier,” he growled, and grabbed him by the front of the doublet. Someone in the crowd booed at Jaskier leaving, but Geralt just glared at them until they stopped. Jaskier was protesting, but nothing he was saying was really a good reason not to, so Geralt just pushed him up the stairs of the inn. Yennefer would follow if she wanted, and if she didn’t, Geralt was gonna suck Jaskier’s cock until he cried. 

“Fucking hell Geralt,” Jaskier said, when the door of their room closed behind them. The door opened again, framing Yennefer, looking beautiful and deadly in a tight black dress. 

“Take off your clothes, bard,” she said in a clear, cutting command. She closed the door behind her, and Jaskier immediately rushed to pull off his doublet and undo the fastening on his breeches. Geralt took his time, because he knew it annoyed Yen, and just pulled off his shirt in one fluid movement. 

Yen didn’t move to undress at all, just watched them with her bright purple eyes. She licked her lips, hungry and controlled, and looked between them slowly, like she was making a plan. Outside of sex, Yen’s plans were always terrible, but during sex they were the best thing Geralt had ever heard. 

“Uh,” Jaskier said, his mouth hanging open. Yen glared at him. 

“Don’t talk,”she said sternly, and Jaskier closed his mouth. She looked at Geralt. “What were you going to do?”

He shrugged, trying to act like he wasn’t affected, even though he knew Yen could see his erection. 

“I was going to suck his cock until he cried,” he said. Jaskier made an audible sound just below a yelp, and sat on the bed to pull his breeches off. Yennefer grinned, like a cat that had got the cream. 

“I’d like to watch that,” she said slowly, and gestured at him to get on his knees. He was so turned on, just from the order and Yen’s casual gesture. 

“Oh my _god_,” Jaskier was saying, but he’d gotten his breeches all the way off, and was pulling his shirt off over his head. His cock was hard and nicely red, curving up towards his stomach. He smelled amazing, warm arousal cut with the sharpness of his fear and anxiety, and Geralt wanted to taste him. He wanted to listen to him react, because if there was one thing Jaskier knew to do while fucking it was make noise. Jaskier looked between Geralt on his knees and Yennefer standing quickly, clearly not sure where to look. 

“Look at me,” Yennefer commanded, with a voice like a whip. There was a whisper of fabric, like she had unfastened her dress and was letting it fall down around her body. Geralt could almost picture her, her perfect breasts on display, exposing the curve of her waist and hips, the fabric falling lower and lower until she could step out of it, naked and terrifying and beautiful. Jaskier whimpered, and the smell of his fear and arousal was stronger, deep and warm. He heard the sound of Yennefer’s bare feet on the floor, and then her hand touched the back of his head. 

“What are you waiting for?” she said, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He put his hands on Jaskier’s thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin, the pulse of his heartbeat in the big vein in his thigh, and leaned in to taste him. He licked a long stripe up the shaft, and then took the head into his mouth, the taste strong and musky, enough to overwhelm even his senses for a moment. Above him, Jaskier groaned and Yen held his hair, not pulling or pushing, not even trying to control him, just holding and knowing he would do what she wanted. _Fuck_. 

Jaskier’s cock wasn’t too big, it was just the right size to take most of the length into his mouth and suck, his tongue focusing on the head while he sucked, keeping his mouth loose and wet. They fucked together enough that he knew Jaskier got oversensitive and Geralt liked to make him last longer, sucking gently at his hard cock until he moaned and begged. He was shameless, squirming and his hips working, pushing his cock further into Geralt’s mouth. He didn’t choke. He could withstand much worse, and he could smell how Jaskier was too turned on to be afraid, that even with Yennefer right there he was lost in Geralt’s mouth, in the way he sucked his cock. 

The bed sunk on Jaskier’s side, as Yennefer sat. She was naked, glorious and still powerful and fearsome. She didn’t need clothes or armour or fancy drapery to make her the most dangerous person in a room. Geralt looked up at her, meeting her eyes with Jaskier’s cock still in his mouth, now sucking and licking not just to make an impact but also to show off. Yennefer raised an eyebrow, and slowly traced a hand over Jaskier’s chest, watching Geralt the whole time. 

“Do you like his mouth?” she asked, and then tweaked Jaskier’s nipple when he didn’t answer. “Answer me.”

Jaskier nodded, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Ah, yes, yes,” he said, when Yen tweaked his nipple again. “Oh god.”

“Are you going to spend already?” Yen said disdainfully. “Geralt isn’t _that_ good.”

That sent a shiver down Geralt’s spine, and made him bob his head faster, sucking more. He rubbed his thumb between Jaskier’s balls, and listened to him moan, tasting his arousal on his tongue. He was trying to hold off, shaking his head with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his hands white-knuckled on the bed next to him. Geralt’s mouth felt thick and used, his spit smeared over his mouth and dripping down Jaskier’s cock. It was warm and wet, and he wanted to make Jaskier spend in his mouth, with Yen watching. If he did it well enough, Yen might praise him, or better yet, reward him. 

“No, not yet,” Jaskier said, gasping, and Geralt didn’t even remember the question. Yen hummed warmly. 

“Good,” she said, and when Geralt looked upwards, she was playing with Jaskier’s nipples again, both of them pink and raised as she pinched them. “I want you to hold out,” Yen said. “I want you to hold out until I say.”

Geralt was so hard, his cockstand throbbing between his legs, but he didn’t want to touch himself at all, he wanted to keep his hands on Jaskier, fondling his bollocks and the soft skin of his inner thigh. He groaned, his mouth full, and Jaskier shook his head violently, gasping. 

“Ah!” he cried out, almost like he was in pain, his stomach jumping. .He and Geralt had never played games like this while they fucked. Between them it was usually simple and direct, fucking until they both came, an easy kind of pleasure. Yen loved to fuck, but she loved to make others work, and hold all the power herself. Geralt sucked harder, tightening his lips around Jaskier’s hard cock, sucking in long, wet pulls, listening to each reaction. Jaskier’s face was bright red, and his eyes were wet, nearly, nearly crying. 

Yen tugged hard on one of Jaskier’s nipples, smiling smugly, and then, trailing her nails over his body and up his neck, pulled sharply on his hair, dragging his head back.

“Now,” Yen commanded sharply, and Jaskier blinked at her, not looking away. He shuddered all over, like an unstoppable shiver, and then Geralt tasted it, his mouth flooding with Jaskier’s release. He swallowed, but it was so much, and so quickly, some of it escaped his mouth, spilling over his lips. 

Jaskier was still breathing hard, pulling in deep gasping breaths, and Yen tugged his hair gently and then released.

“Good,” she said, and Jaskier nodded, gasping, and then she released him, and he flopped back on the bed like his strings were cut. 

“Oh my god,” he said faintly. Yen laughed, not smugly or dangerously, but just a normal laugh, like Jaskier had genuinely entertained her. When she looked at Geralt, still on his knees and with his trousers on, her gaze was warm and pleased. Slowly and gracefully, she lifted one of her feet to rest on his shoulder. He could smell her, how aroused and wet she was, and he wanted to taste her, to have the taste of both of them on his mouth.

“Undo your trousers,” she said, and he fumbled at himself, finally freeing his cock. He tried not to, but he still made a noise when he got his hand around himself. “Release whenever you want,” she said, beckoning him forward. “But I come first.”

He nodded, and then she hooked her foot over his shoulder and pulled him forward until he buried his face in her cunt, the taste of her mixing with the taste of Jaskier already in his mouth. He loved it, that it overwhelmed his senses until he was only smelling and tasting her, only listening to her, She wasn’t quiet or restrained. She held him close with her legs, and moaned when he did something she liked, so that he knew to do it again and again until her legs trembled and her thighs closed tightly around his head. When he pulled back for a second, she was kissing Jaskier, holding his chin in place, and it was so hot he had to grip himself tightly to hold back. Yen had to come first. He did everything she liked, sliding the tip of his tongue inside her, licking her cunt in quick strokes, but, it was her favorite thing, licking hard and firm at her clit, that finally made her cry out. He felt it on his tongue, the shockwaves that went through her and the way her cunt clenched and twitched as she came. Only then did he finally rest his head on her thigh and stroke himself, succumbing to the final temptation and coming hard and fast in only a few seconds. 

Yen patted at his hair ineffectually and then crawled up the bed, still completely naked. 

“Come to bed,” she said to Geralt, when he tried to catch his breath on the floor. She flopped down on to the bed face down, and crooked her fingers at Jaskier. “Come on,” she said, a little exasperated. “Don’t men like to sleep after they fuck?”

“Uh, yes, sometimes,”Jaskier said quickly, but then shut up when Geralt growled. Now was not the time for Jaskier to monologue. He pushed his trousers off all the way and crawled next to Yen to lie down, curled on his side. He didn’t need much sleep, but it was pleasant to lay down and doze for a while, Jaskier falling asleep nearly as soon as he lay his head down.

He must have actually dozed off for a little while, because when he opened his eyes again the dusk had totally faded from the window and Yennefer was lying on her side, still naked, looking at him. He could smell very faint magic, and when he looked at her, she gestured vaguely.

"Just keeping us warm," she said, because she always knew what he was asking with a look. He propped himself up on one elbow. Jaskier's sleeping breaths whistled slightly as he slept, and, over Yen's side, Geralt could see his head pillowed on his folded arms, and the curve of his bare arse. 

"Did you sleep?" Geralt asked. Yen smiled wistfully.

“A little,” she said. “I don’t sleep much anymore.”

Geralt nodded. He understood. Visible over the curve of Yen’s side, Jaskier was sleeping soundly, face down in the bed. Yen looked with him, and raised an eyebrow when he rolled back.

“You’ve kept him around for a long time now,”she said, and Geralt flopped back on the bed. 

“I’m not ‘keeping him around’,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “We’re travelling together.”

He definitely wasn’t saying out loud, that, on occasion, it was nice to have Jaskier around, even if he was asleep. His ego would inflate automatically. 

Yennefer only hummed, as if she didn’t believe him.

“I suppose it would be good for the ego to fuck a tart like him every night,” she said.

Geralt laughed. Why did Yen always have to make everything about power and control? Sometimes fucking was just fucking.

“You think I have to put my cock in Jaskier to prove I’m the stronger man?” he said, still entertained by the idea. “I think I know.”

“Say that to my face,” Jaskier said sleepily, from Yen’s other side. Geralt snorted. Yen’s face was confused. He supposed she’d thought he fucked Jaskier every night, even after ordering him around and watching him suck his cock. He meant it; he didn’t need to fuck to feel strong and powerful. It was honestly preferable to take a bath in a semi-respectable inn and get Jaskier to fuck him until they both came. He certainly hadn’t heard any complaints from Jaskier about the arrangement. 

“Give Jaskier a moment and he’ll probably be willing to demonstrate,” he said, and Jaskier waved an arm, before letting it flop back down. 

“Just you wait,” he slurred. 

Yen sat up and looked down at both of them, smiling like she’d had an idea. 

“If Jaskier isn’t available, I’d be happy to contribute,” she said. Geralt looked at her. 

“What do you mean?” he said slowly. He liked fucking, but didn’t usually play the kind of sex games Yen loved. She looked like she was about to suggest something new. 

Yen’s eyes flashed and a small portal opened near her arm. She reached through it, and when she pulled her hand back, she was holding a very expensive leather harness attached to a very large glass phallus. Geralt knew what it was. 

“How do you have one of those?” he asked, sitting up. Jaskier made a sleep questioning sound, but didn’t sit up. Yen laughed, and waved it back and forth. 

“Did you think Aretuzza is just a bunch of magical women sitting around meditating? There’s no men. We got creative,” she said. Jaskier made another noise, and then actually did raise his head. 

“Great heavens above,” he said. Yen looked down at him, and licked her lips. 

“You can wait your turn,”she said, and Jaskier whimpered, his eyes flicking to Geralt’s and then back to Yennefer. She opened another portal, and when she pulled her hand back, she was holding a vial of oil. 

“Oh alright then,” he said, and rolled over onto his front. Yen tugged at his hair. 

“Not like that,” she said. “Roll over.”

The command made a thin shiver go through him, especially combined with the idea of watching Yen fuck him. Looking at Yen, he slowly rolled over until he was on his back, and then watched as she handed the oil to Jaskier. 

“You can get him ready then,” she said. Jaskier gulped. Yen laughed at him a little, and then stepped off the bed, still holding her harness. Jaskier clearly didn’t know where to look, his eyes darting between Yen tying the harness around his waist and legs and Geralt’s spread legs. 

“Well, c’mon then,” Geralt said, and gestured with his head to beckon Jaskier towards him. 

“Right, yes, yes,”Jaskier said, and crawled between his spread legs, holding the oil. Quickly he oiled up two of his fingers, and then, one hand braced on Geralt’s thigh, pressed them carefully into his hole, sliding through the resistance. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt amazingly good, but he had to grit his teeth to hold back a moan. When he rolled his head sideways, he saw Yen stroking her hand over her cock, looking smug. Her eyes flashed and he heard her say some words in elven, just far enough under her breath that he couldn’t make them out, but her hand suddenly dripped with oil and coated her cock, flowing over the soft carvings. He knew, he just knew, that the feeling of the carvings inside him would be exquisite. 

Jaskier twisted his fingers, and Geralt was so surprised by it, he groaned loudly, his mouth falling open. They fucked enough that Jaskier knew what he was doing, and Geralt let himself feel it, the wave of pleasure moving through him. He groaned again when Jaskier spread his fingers.

“That’s enough,” Yen said. “He doesn’t need much.”

She was right, because Geralt didn’t feel much pain anymore, but the way she said it, her voice cracking across him like a wimp, made it sound like he didn’t need much stretching because he _wanted_ it, because he was panting for Yennefer to slide her cock into him. 

Slowly, too slowly for him, Yennefer put a knee up on the bed and, Jaskier scrambling out of her way, crawled between his legs. She grinned at him, her eyes flashing, and pushed at the back of his leg, until he lifted it up against his chest, exposing his hole. Thankfully, finally, she didn’t make him wait, and she pushed forward with her hips, slowly thrusting her cock into him. He tried not to react, but when the head breached him and he felt the drag of the carvings inside him, he inhaled sharply, and Yen noticed.

“Do you like it?” she said, in a tone of voice that implied she knew the answer.

“Yes,” he tried to growl, but it came out too breathy to make him sound intimidating. Yennefer’s smile was victorious. She snapped her hips sharply, and a groan came to his lips unbidden, the feeling of Yen’s cock inside him too good to pretend not to feel. It was intense pleasure, the feeling of being taken over and over, as Yen set a demanding, aggressive pace. Each thrust felt like hot syrup in his veins, warm and sweet and intoxicating all through him. 

“Oh fuck,” Geralt heard, and when he let his head fall to the side, he saw Jaskier on his back with his hands pinned to the bed by a clear bar of Yennefer’s magic. 

“You’ll come when I’m fucking you,” Yen said imperiously, and thrust hard, her skin slapping against Geralt’s loudly. “You too, Geralt. Don’t touch yourself. You’ll come from this, won’t you?”

He tried not to nod, because the last thing he wanted to do was admit how badly he wanted to just do what she said, to come on her cock, just from her fucking him. He could feel the carvings dragging inside him, feel his body clench around her with every thrust. 

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth, as Yen pushed into him again. The muscles in the back of his legs were straining, but Yen was giving him no time to rest in between thrust, each making him groan. Every time she thrust, her tits moved and he felt her cock inside him and he wanted to come, to release. His cock, almost an afterthought, hard against his stomach, twitching with every thrust but totally untouched, with no friction to bring him to the edge. 

Yen braced a hand on his chest, her hand warm and alive with the magic she was casting. He could smell it, the same way he could smell her and Jaskier’s arousal, and it all mixed into a heady combination he sunk into. 

“You can do it,” she said, her hand slipping lower to the bottom of his sternum, just touching the soft skin of his abdomen. “You like a challenge, don’t you. Let us see you come,” she said, her voice coaxing and teasing, and he knew that she meant it, that she had set him a challenge he was capable of, that she knew he could do. He wanted to satisfy her, to complete the task set for him, even as he groaned at the sensation, the sound, the smell, all of it. 

Finally, finally, he was at the edge, and Yennefer ground her cock into him hard, sparking pleasure all through his body, and he groaned one last time, his cock jerking completely untouched, spending all over his stomach, even up to her hand. 

“Mmm, yes,” Yennefer hummed smugly, and then, a kind of cruel pleasure, kept grinding in him, her eyes flashing as he gasped, too over-sensitised to react any other way. His heightened senses were overwhelming him, and Yen didn’t relent, grinding in him and rubbing at his his sternum, until his spend was completely gone, rubbed into his stomach like an invisible mark. He could _smell_ it. 

Yennefer’s hips stilled, and she let Geralt’s leg fall down. She was slow, but not careful pulling out, and the friction made him roll his head and breathe carefully through his nose, which just made the smell even more powerfully present. 

“Jaskier,” she said, commandingly, crooking a finger. “Your turn.”

Jaskier, blushing furiously, rose up onto his knees. His cock was darkly red, and so hard it was curving against his stomach. 

“Uh,” he said, flapping a hand nervously. “Where?”

Yennefer slowly raised a single eyebrow, and then gestured in front of her, between Geralt’s legs. 

“Here Jaskier,” she said, as if she wasn’t going to wait for him. He was nervous enough to glance at Geralt once, but he just nodded. It was Yennefer’s show. Jaskier paused for just a second but then he looked back at Yennefer, looking imperios and glorious with her amazing tits and her cock still magically oiled. Geralt reached out for him, crunching his stomach muscles, and curled his hand around Jaskier’s hip. 

“C’mon,” he said, and Jaskier relented, falling forward to brace himself on Geralt’s wide chest, on his knees between Geralt’s legs. His body was warm, and Geralt ran a hand up his side, feeling the soft expanse of his skin. The view was amazing: Jaskier’s back and the curve of his arse, and then Yennefer leaning forward to push her cock into him, his tits moving and her face smug and concentrated. 

He could see Jaskier thinking, probably working himself up into worry, so Geralt cupped his neck and pulled him into a kiss, to distract and because his mouth was soft, the kiss desperate and gasping. Unlike Yennefer, he didn’t bite. He groaned and shook when Yennefer thrust into him for the first time, his hands on Geralt’s arms tightening, but his face was twisted in pleasure, not pain. Geralt tried to kiss him again, but Jaskier’s mouth stayed slack, moaning with every movement of their bodies. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” he gasped, his voice catching, and Yennefer thrust hard enough that their skin slapped together, an obscene noise to punctuate every time she pushed her cock deep into Jaskier’s body. 

“That’s it,” she said, her voice commanding and sugar-sweet. “Take my cock, because you want it so much, don’t you?”

She didn’t slow down at all, even talking, and Jaskier nodded desperately.

“Yes, yes,” he said, his legs spread and pushing against Geralt’s, his whole weight laid onto him, his hard cock rubbing against Geralt’s stomach, his precome adding to where Geralt had already come over himself. They smelled like sweaty, warm bodies, musky with sex and arousal, desperation, want, and suddenly, the ozone scent of Yennefer’s magic, distinct and obvious to him.

“Are you doing sex magic?” he said, looking at Yennefer over Jaskier’s shoulder. She curled her lip and didn’t stop, her hands on Jaskier’s hips pulling him back onto her cock with each thrust. 

“I don’t hear any complaints,” she said, and when she thrust again, Jaskier moaned loudly, his face pressed against Geralt’s collarbone, his breath wet and heavy. “It’s nothing Geralt, stop worrying,”she said, and the ozone smell diminished, replaced by the strong scent of Jaskier’s arousal, his cock leaking onto Geralt’s stomach. 

“Ah, ah,” Jaskier gasped continuously, more desperate sounding all the time. Geralt wasn’t even thinking about the magic anymore, he was thinking about Yennefer’s tits and the heavy weight of Jaskier’s body on top of him. It was so good his cock was even trying to get hard again. Maybe in a few minutes, even his endurance couldn’t help him that fast, but Jaskier needed something sooner. 

“He wants to come,” Yennefer said, her hips moving in quick, sharp thrusts. “He’s been so good hasn’t he, taking it so good. Hasn’t he?”

Jaskier nodded. He was red and blotchy all over, sweating a little, his hair sticking up. He looked thoroughly debauched.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been good,” he said, but Yennefer wasn’t looking at him; she was looking at Geralt. 

“You can make him come,” she said. “Quickly now.”

Jaskier was heavy, and in no state to help, but Geralt got a hand between them, to wrap his fingers around Jaskier’s cock, hard and hot in his hand. He had leaked enough that the friction was easy, a hot wet glide of Geralt’s big fingers over his cock, playing with the head, and then down again to squeeze him tightly, the way Geralt knew he liked. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he could hear Jaskier saying, nearly in his ear, but really he was focused on the smell, and the feeling, both of the sensations intense enough to be nearly overwhelming for him. 

Jaskier was desperate, worked up and overwhelmed, and it only took a few tight hard jerks of Geralt’s hand before he moaned and shook all over, his release coating both of their stomachs and Geralt’s hand. 

“Yes, that was good,” Yennefer said, but it was mostly for her and Geralt’s benefit, Jaskier was whimpering and gasping against Geralt’s chest because she hadn’t pulled out and was grinding her hips, her hands holding him in place. 

“Don’t torture the poor man,” Geralt said, which made Yennefer smirk.

“He’d beg me to torture him,” she said, and hitched her hips enough to make him cry out. “He’d beg me and like every second of it.” 

Jaskier twisted, moaning helplessly, as Yen moved inside him, not thrusting but moving her hips in a slow grind. Geralt ran his hand up and down Jaskier’s back, feeling how warm he was, trying to soothe him a little. 

“Maybe,” he said, trying to be reasonable, even with the scent of the both of them still in his nose. “But he’s come twice tonight already Yen, and he’s only human.”

“Hmmph,” Yennefer said, like she wasn’t very impressed by that, but she finally stopped moving and then slowly withdrew, bracing one hand on Jaskier’s back. The glass of her cock glistened slightly, with oil, but then she stripped off the harness and dropped it, carelessly, through a portal she quickly opened and closed. 

“Hmm..magic,”Jaskier said fuzzily, his head resting on Geralt’s chest. Geralt pet his hair gently, feeling uncharacteristically generous towards him. He’d finally gotten a taste of how intense Yen could actually be, and he’d kept up admirably. 

“Is he asleep again?” Yen said, and Geralt rolled a little to let Jaskier slide onto the bed, his head on one of the pillows. 

“Just about,” he said, and lay back himself. He was sticky in places, and probably smelled foul, but he could afford to lay about for a little while longer. He extended an arm. “Come, lay down,” he said, knowing she only needed the excuse. “You were working hard.”

“I was,” she said imperiously, but relented and came and lay down in his arms. She even kissed him for a while, her glorious breasts pressed against his chest, until he did fall asleep truly.

&&&

Yennefer was gone when he woke, which was typical but disappointing. Why could she never bring herself to stay until the morning? Was it truly that she had important business elsewhere, or was it a fear that she would tie herself too closely to other people, to Geralt, if she stayed? 

It wasn’t all bad. Jaskier had hunted down some rolls, sausages in pastry, and a bottle of watered-down wine, and they ate together in bed. Jaskier had put clothes on to find food, but he took his doublet off to come back to bed, and Geralt enjoyed lounging around naked. At least when he was eating, Jaskier was blessedly quiet, which was a welcome relief from normal. 

It couldn’t last. He swallowed noisily. 

“Are we going to talk about last night?” he said.

“Hmm,” Geralt grunted. He didn’t really have an opinion on it. What was there to talk about anyway? He and Jaskier fucked all the time, Yennefer had joined them for an evening, that was it really. 

“Don’t grunt at me,” Jaskier said. “It was very overwhelming!” 

“Hmm,” Geralt said, rolling out of bed to hunt out his clothes and his armour. 

“Are you running away from me?” Jaskier shouted after him, but Geralt ignored him until he had his doublet back on, and was doing the fastenings up.

“We should get on the road soon,” he said. Jaskier flopped back onto the bed dramatically. 

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t communicate with me about this. You’ll have to say something if this turns out to have cursed us or be part of one of Yennefer’s evil plans.”

“Sometimes fucking is just fucking,” Geralt said, and then paused, his fingers still on the fastening of his clothes. “And Yennefer doesn’t have evil plans.”

"No she just has plans that nearly get us killed or maimed or horribly cursed," Jaskier said, pulling his doublet back on, having clearly gotten the message they were getting dressed and back on the road. "Frankly I don't really see the distinction."

Geralt didn't think that needed an answer, and they were paid up and back on the road by midday. It was a rare day of pleasant weather and he'd been sleeping in a real bed and eating decent food for a week. It had put him in a dangerously good mood. Jaskier strummed on his lute, humming something that Geralt didn’t recognise. It would probably be a song in a few weeks, some hideously inaccurate retelling of stabbing drowners in the face. At the crossroads, he turned Roach northwards. There would be a job soon, and the coin to go along with it. 


End file.
